How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 654: Reina’s troubles Interlude (2)

"I’ve been observing this for some time," Kagami whispered, his gaze sharpening as he shifted forward in his chair. "Junior Reina’s swordsmanship is... unconventional. It lacks a set pattern or a specific school of thought. Did she actually develop something entirely new during her training?"

Lucas offered no immediate reply to the question.

Instead, his entire attention was fixed on the struggle occurring in the arena below.

Reina’s movements—which used to be a disorganized imitation of various sword styles—had transformed today.

They were polished. More acute. A sense of unity was finally beginning to emerge from the previous disorder.

"It is subtle," Lucas remarked eventually, his tone deep with thought. "But she may have begun practicing the Heavenly Swordsmanship."

"The style of the Grand Duke?" Kagami’s eyebrow shot up. "I was under the impression that basic versions were circulated across the continent for novice knights... but this—" He pointed toward Reina, whose sword moved like a flash of burnished silver. "This is nothing like those diluted forms. The swordsmanship she is displaying right now is clearly... on another level."

A faint, nearly prideful grin appeared on Lucas’s face.

"Yes. It appears junior Reina has matured significantly since the last time I witnessed her in combat."

Kagami gave a slow nod, his eyes following the high-speed exchange on the field.

Despite being a mage, Clara commanded her hovering arcane blade with professional skill, answering Reina’s aggressive lunges with minimal exertion.

Nevertheless, her movements—which were typically so fluid they bordered on elegant—seemed slightly out of sync.

Somewhat... reactive.

"Well, regardless of how refined and balanced Reina’s swordsmanship has become," Kagami noted, letting out a breath, "it remains insufficient. Clara isn't even attempting to cause her harm. She is merely governing the flow, keeping the situation under control. Her slow reactions are only due to her surprise. The final victor is still quite obvious."

Any spectator with professional insight could perceive the truth.

Clara Luminaria had not yet begun to exert her true power.

It wasn't a matter of pride—it was simply the reality of the situation.

However, Lucas spoke beside him without a shred of doubt.

"I believe Reina will emerge victorious."

Kagami whipped his head toward him. "What?"

He looked at Lucas, completely bewildered.

Was his judgment clouded by personal bias?

Even Kagami, who respected Reina’s diligence, could clearly recognize the vast disparity in their levels.

Yet Lucas did not appear to be dreaming, nor did he seem to be forcing himself to trust in a hopeless cause.

On the contrary, his eyes shone with sincere fascination—almost as if he were in suspense—watching the match as if it were a mystery waiting to be solved.

Disregarding Kagami’s shocked expression, Lucas kept his eyes on the stage, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

...

Strange...

That was the nagging sensation bothering Clara as her duel with Reina continued.

Her brow furrowed slightly—not from the physical strain, but from an inexplicable feeling of inconsistency.

CLANGG!!

SHIINNG!!

CLINNG!!

Every one of Reina’s strikes was precise and sincere, fueled by raw willpower.

And every single time, Clara’s hovering blade blocked them with effortless accuracy, guided by only a fraction of her concentration and a tiny amount of her mana.

Reina circled her—darting left, right, and above, shifting her weight in explosive bursts that would have overwhelmed any ordinary first-year knight.

To Clara, however, the entire display was predictable.

It was a loop.

A repetitive cycle of offense and defense that never deviated.

Reina was pouring her soul into the fight.

Clara had not moved from her starting position. She hadn't taken a single step since the duel commenced.

Yet, despite the obvious gap in power that Clara herself acknowledged...

Something felt wrong.

A shivering sensation ran down her back—an instinctive, primal warning.

Her muscles began to tighten, and her senses sharpened of their own accord.

A small, whisper-like alarm rang in her mind:

"Finish this now."

But for what reason? Reina was nowhere near strong enough to beat her.

So why was her intuition screaming that she was in peril?

The wind whipped around as Reina adjusted her stance.

Clara’s eyes widened slightly.

That motion—

That flow of mana—

That specific footwork—

It was different from before.

Reina took a sharp breath.

A subtle wave of mana gathered around her blade.

[Heavenly Swordsmanship – Hell Style]

[Heaven’s Tempest]

In a heartbeat, Reina became a blur—her body spinning in the air, momentum coiling around her like a localized cyclone.

Her sword struck down like a falling star, a fierce gale exploding behind her as she made her descent.

Fast.

Far more rapid than anything she had shown previously.

CLAAANG!!!

A massive shockwave vibrated through the arena floor.

But as expected—Clara’s telekinetically controlled sword met the blow, stopping it dead.

Reina touched down, her jaw set and frustration visible in her eyes as she glared at Clara, who still...

Who still hadn't moved an inch.

"Haah!"

Reina didn't allow the temporary setback to stall her.

Instead, she lunged forward once more, her breathing becoming sharper and her focus narrowing.

This time, there was a flash—a transition—within her eyes.

A spark of realization, as if something had finally clicked.

Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword.

[Heavenly Swordsmanship – Hell Style]

[Hell Storm]

The rhythm changed.

The very air began to crackle.

Her mana transformed—becoming sharper and more volatile—creating small bolts of electricity that slithered along the steel like agitated snakes.

Swiishhhh!!!

Crackle!

BOOOOM!

With a nearly weightless step, Reina’s body exploded forward like a bolt of lightning thrown from the sky.

The entire stadium shook under the sudden surge of speed.

Clisssh!!

CLANG!!!!

A thunderous impact resonated across the stage.

Clara’s eyes widened—truly widened—for the first time in the match. A single blade, Reina’s sword, had nearly struck her throat directly.

"What—!?"

The speed was too much even for her to process.

If her multi-layered telekinetic shields hadn't triggered automatically on instinct, she might have actually perished in that moment.

The raw velocity and accuracy... it was almost exactly like—

Her brother.

That epiphany struck Clara hard.

But Reina gave her no time to ponder the thought.

Before Clara could bolster her shield, Reina’s figure blurred again—moving in zig-zags and spirals, vanishing and reappearing in violent bursts as lightning wrapped around her.

The air vibrated.

The stage creaked.

Reina moved with a peculiar, chaotic grace.

Spotting another vulnerability, she took advantage of it without a second thought.

[Heavenly Swordsmanship – Hell Style]

[Rain]

Her sword lunged forward in a piercing strike that had been refined to its absolute limit.

CLANG!

It was blocked—but only barely.

Reina did not pause.

She couldn't. Harnessing the momentum of her own strike, she spun, stepped, and lashed out again.

Then again. And again.

A relentless storm of thrusts—sharp, accurate, and increasingly fast—fell upon Clara like a tempest of lightning-charged rain.

CLANG!

CLANG!

CLAANG!

Every blow pounded against Clara’s telekinetic blades, and one by one—

Crack.

Snap.

Shatter.

Her flying swords crumbled under the ceaseless onslaught.

Sparks flew with every collision, spraying across the stage like shimmering shards of light.

Reina’s eyes never flickered. Her breathing remained constant.

This was no accident.

This wasn't a lucky streak.

This—

—was the true swordsmanship of Reina Hell finally coming into view.

Is she... experiencing enlightenment?

That was the only conclusion Clara could reach as she looked at Reina.

A genuine sense of dread crept up her spine for the first time since the duel started.

The expression in Reina’s eyes—composed, concentrated, razor-sharp but strangely detached—was unmistakable.

It wasn't the look of a person merely engaged in a fight.

It was the look of someone perceiving the truth.

Understanding something profound.

And that was a threat.

Realizing the danger, Clara finally surged her mana—truly exerting herself.

The casual, easy-going posture she had maintained vanished instantly.

She could no longer afford to treat this as a simple sparring match.

"Fufu... it seems I didn't give you enough credit, junior—"

But Clara couldn't even finish her thought.

Her eyes flew open.

Blood suddenly trickled from her lips.

"W-What...?"

her legs gave way as her body wobbled, agony radiating from every part of her.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of tiny puncture wounds appeared all over her body, as if she had been pierced by invisible needles.

Clara’s floating swords fell uselessly to the floor.

As her sight grew dim, she caught a glimpse of Reina’s blade—its edge still humming with golden lightning, a nearly invisible thread of electricity pulling back into the metal.

Did... did she actually just—?

Clara’s breath caught in her throat.

Did this girl really invent such a technique in the heat of battle?

"Haha..."

A soft, stunned laugh left her lips as her body began to glow with the emergency golden light of the academy’s safety barrier.

Gradually, her form began to dissolve into particles of light—teleporting her away before a fatal blow could land.

The entire arena went dead silent.

Reina eased her stance, breathing heavily, though her eyes still retained that lingering edge, as if she were returning from a distant place.

Then—at last—the announcer found their voice.

"W-Winner...!!! R-REINA HELL!!!"

The audience went wild.

Gasps, shouts, and cheers—all blended into a single explosion of sound as the crowd tried to process the miracle they had just seen.

Kagami, who had watched the entire match with focused calm, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple.

"Well, I'll be... it seems both siblings are absolute monsters..."

He couldn't help but wonder if Reina had truly created that style on the fly... because that kind of combat genius was terrifying.

Lucas, meanwhile, merely leaned back with a gentle, satisfied smile.

"Excellent work, junior..."

....

Meanwhile, Reina—whose awareness was only just returning—stared down at her weapon.

Her fingers shook slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

...What just happened?

That clear vision she had seen a moment ago...

Was that real?

Did she actually win the match?

Her mind was still clouded, as if she were waking from a vivid dream.

Slowly, she raised her eyes toward the massive display screen above the arena.

And there, glowing bright and undeniable, was her name.

She was still standing on the battlefield.

People were yelling.

Cheering.

Chanting her name.

"I-I... won...?" she muttered, almost afraid to voice the words.

Instinctively, she looked toward the VIP section. Lucas was there, his eyes fixed on her, smiling kindly.

She couldn't hear a word over the deafening roar of the crowd, but she didn't have to.

She could understand his lips, his face, and the pride in his gaze.

"Good job, junior..."

Just those unspoken words made her heart swell.

A light blush colored her cheeks as a wave of joy washed over her.

Reina squeezed her fist tight, raised it high above her head, and held it there with pride.

Big bro... I won!

She screamed it in her heart, her smile finally shining through.